Underneath the Facade
by ChidoriQueen
Summary: Somehow, underneath the facade of Major Mustang, the strong, merciless leader, she sees Roy, the boy with a heart of gold and dreams bigger than Amestris itself. Riza-centric one-shot. In celebration of Royai Day.


Riza feels numb.

Trudging across the blood-stained sands of Ishval, face gaunt and sunken, tendrils of her honey-blonde hair sticking stubbornly onto her sweat-soaked face, swallowing back her tears at the sight of the corpses sprawled over decimated villages, she keeps on walking.

She has pulled the trigger so many times that she can't count; watches bodies crumple, a crimson stains spreading across their traditional robes, scarlet eyes wide and unforgiving.

She has seen the same thing over and over again, until the initial shock finally wore off and the movement of killing felt as natural as breathing.

Bam. A body collapses. Bam. A child screams. Bam. Someone wails in despair.

But after the day is done, after she stares at her grimy hands covered in something that was a mixture of dirt and blood and dust, she wants to cry. Bury her face into her hands and let out all of the emotions she had pent-up since she had been swept out of the academy and right into the middle of a raging battlefield.

War isn't glory. War isn't spectacular, or beautiful, or satisfying.

It's pure hell.

So why is she here? Why is she ending life after life, shooting bullet after bullet?

Because she has no other purpose in life other than to fight.

Her mother had died of some mysterious disease or other when she was young, leaving her with only the memory of a smile. Her father had neglected her for her entire life, locking himself up in his messy study, grumbling under his breath as he pored over alchemy research papers and books. He had refused to leave the house, refused to change out of his tattered shirt, refused to say a word to Riza.

For most of her childhood, she had been living in fear of him; tiptoeing like a mouse to his room to deliver coffee or bread, before scurrying out again and almost tripping over erself to reach the safe haven of her room.

But every day, she dreamed of a brighter future. She dreamed that the boys that seeked an apprenticeship with her father would somehow manage to take her away, take her to a place where the sun always shone and where she would always be happy. To a world she had thought never existed, a perfect world where there was only peace, happiness, and love.

But as those faces became a blur, as she couldn't remember who was Johnny or who was Richard, her dreams slowly faded away into a gray bleakness. She wouldn't be able to do anything spectacular with her life. Perhaps her father would marry her off to a wealthy gentleman, and she would live an ordinary life as a housewife. Maybe have a couple of children; clean, cook, sew.

But hope arrived in the form of Roy Mustang, a young man no older than her. He hadn't looked particularly strong to her; just another one of them. He would crack under the pressure, he would be bruised and bloody and broken, and he would leave her without a second thought.

Just like everyone else had. Her mother. Johnny. Richard.

Instead, he took her tiny, significant world and transformed it into something that seemed worth something.

As the two of them washed dishes together, occasionally brushing hands in the soapy water, the charismatic boy would tell her about his hopes, his dreams, how he was going to become the Fuhrer and change the very universe itself.

He had so much faith in his dream that soon, it became her dream as well.

She wanted to see Roy happy. She believed in him.

When her father died, she had trusted him like she had trusted no other. Slipped off her navy blouse and showed him the terrible secrets inscribed into her back. What was to her unreadable words and symbols, but was to him the key to changing the world.

He became a state alchemist, put on the uniform, packed his bags, and headed off to his new station in the East. He promised to write her letters every week about his new ideas, the amazing people he had met, his daring adventures protecting the meek.

Nothing ever came. Maybe he had given up his ideals.

Given up on Riza.

But that didn't stop her from chasing them herself. She hopped onto a train, picked up a gun, and found out that she had a certain talent for sharpshooting. With her weapon and ambitions, she would help the weak and defenseless.

But was this helping the weak and defenseless? Killing children for what her superiors told her was for "the greater good"?

She sees Roy Mustang again, on the frontlines, risking his life every day. But not in the way he had imagined it. He stands at the doors of death to strike down others, burns once living, breathing human beings into ashes and charred corpses.

And she wonders what she has done, as her dark, almost lifeless eyes stare at his golden flames, the only thing colorful and truly beautiful in this dark, dreary place.

Somehow, underneath the facade of Major Mustang, the strong, merciless leader, she sees Roy, the boy with a heart of gold and dreams bigger than Amestris itself.

Even through all of the heartbreak he had caused her, she still trusts him. She still believes that he will change the world with his idealism, change the fate of the country. There isn't a specific reason why she still has faith with him- she just has a feeling that she won't regret this decision.

And so, Riza swears, no matter what happens to her or what happens to him, that she will always be by his side.


End file.
